


"Too chicken, huh?"

by jack_hunter



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Brother-Sister Relationships, Gen, No Plot/Plotless, Sabine and Ezra being dorks, Seriously I wrote this in half an hour it's rubbish, Zeb is done with their shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:00:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25809265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jack_hunter/pseuds/jack_hunter
Summary: “Really, ‘Bean?” He exclaimed, hands on his hips as the artist kept laughing, “what if he had dragged me in there!”“Oh, calm down, Ez,” Sabine replied, punching his shoulder, “you’re way too chicken to get a tattoo.”“Too chicken, huh?” Sabine froze at the sound of Ezra’s tone. She knew what that meant, and she knew it would end badly. It was the same tone that had convinced the artist it was a good idea for them to paint that damn TIE fighter. Ezra had begun smirking, hand stroking his chin. Sabine’s mind went from fear to worry, but when the jedi raised a single eyebrow her way, she filled up with glee.
Relationships: Ezra Bridger & Sabine Wren
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	"Too chicken, huh?"

It hadn’t been on the agenda of the day to stop some stormtroopers from harassing a poor family on some distant planet in the outer rim, but whilst on a quick supply run Ezra and Sabine had found themselves abandoning their groceries to instead lead the Imperials on a wild goose chase around the small town before eventually knocking them out down some back alley. As the pair made their way back to their shopping, laughing about the stunt they had pulled off so effortlessly, the family they had helped came running over to thank them profoundly, the adults bowing in respect as the two little children hugged the legs of the rebels.

“How could we ever repay you?” a man, seemingly the father of the family, asked, but Ezra just shook his head.  
“No need to,” he replied, but the man was insistent and argued that there must have been something he could do for them in return. Ezra just turned awkwardly to Sabine, hoping she would be able to take over, but the artist was too busy staring at a poster on the window of the shop nearby. She seemed in awe, fingers tracing black outlines of an incredibly detailed drawing of some creature. When the man followed Ezra’s gaze, his face lit up and he bounded over to Sabine’s side.

“Ah! That is one of my son’s best designs!” He announced with pride, “he owns this parlour you know,” Sabine looked up at the sign above the door, not knowing the strange font written there but recognising the image of a tattoo needle.

“He’s an amazing artist,” Sabine commented, and the man laughed in joy before freezing, eyes widening like a light bulb had just gone off above his head.

“Oh! How about my son gives you both a tattoo as a thank you, free of charge!” The man was smiling, hands clasped together as if praying for the teens to accept the offer he proposed.

“Oh, I’m not really a tattoo fan myself,” Sabine admitted, wincing a bit when she saw the man’s face fall, “... but my brother would love one!” From where he was silently watching the exchange, Ezra seemed to choke on air as his eyes went wide and he stuttered a pitiful excuse of a reply. The man was smiling once more, not noticing how Sabine looked like she was about to burst out laughing. The man disappeared inside the shop with his family, animatedly talking about how Ezra could come by anytime he wanted. As soon as the door closed, Sabine broke into sobs of laughter and Ezra glared at her.

“Really, ‘Bean?” He exclaimed, hands on his hips as the artist kept laughing, “what if he had dragged me in there!”

“Oh, calm down, Ez,” Sabine replied, punching his shoulder, “you’re way too chicken to get a tattoo.”

“Too chicken, huh?” Sabine froze at the sound of Ezra’s tone. She knew what that meant, and she knew it would end badly. It was the same tone that had convinced the artist it was a good idea for them to paint that damn TIE fighter. Ezra had begun smirking, hand stroking his chin. Sabine’s mind went from fear to worry, but when the jedi raised a single eyebrow her way, she filled up with glee.

“Did you bring your sketchpad with you?” Ezra asked. Sabine pulled out a small electronic tablet seemingly from nowhere.

“When do I ever leave the Ghost without it?” Sabine retorted. The two sat down on their crate of supplies and got to work.

Apparently, the two of them had been out a few hours too long after they were meant to return to the Ghost, and Hera was rightly pissed when they finally got back to the ship, but both Sabine and Ezra missed the anger in her eyes as they were too busy smiling and giggling giddily whilst they pushed the crates up the cargo ramp. Once their cargo was secured, the two bounded right over to where the rest of the crew was waiting for them.

“You guys are not going to believe what I got!” He exclaimed, pure happiness in his words. He slightly undid the top of his jumpsuit’s zip, just enough so that he could pull part of the collar to the side and reveal a black circle made up of a loth-cat and a purgil chasing one another inked onto his skin. The teens were both staring at the tattoo, so they didn’t see Zeb facepalm or Hera’s mouth drop, or the way Kanan just tilted his head, confused.

“Ezra Bridger that had better not be permanent,” Hera demanded, making the teens freeze, but they were quick to stop the volcano of fury from erupting.

“Oh, no no no!” Sabine insisted, hands raised in defence, “he was too young to get a permanent one; this disappears after a few weeks.”

“But I am so going to get it permanently for my birthday!” Ezra added. Zeb rolled his eyes, wandering off muttering something about “kits being too damn irresponsible these days”. Chopper made some sort of sneering sound, spinning his dome head to a pincer whacked Ezra’s forearm. “So what if you don’t like it, you rustbucket!” Ezra snarked back as the astromech wheeled away.

“What exactly is going on?” Kanan spoke up, stepping forward just a bit. Ezra scurried over to his master’s side, carefully grabbing Kanan’s hand to guide it upwards and over where the black marks left faint dents in his skin.

“It’s so cool, isn’t it?” He asked. Kanan traced the lines of the loth-cat and purgil, a small grin forming on his lips.

“It’s… definitely you, Ezra,” he responded, his unseeing eyes not quite meeting his padawan’s but the intent was still there. The joy didn’t last too long, though, as Hera soon began scolding them for not telling her they were going to be late, but the two teens just recounted the entire story to her whilst they headed for the Galley and managed to get their grounding reduced to just extra chores.

Now all Sabine and Ezra had to do was hide the not-temporary-but-very-much-so-permanent tattoo until Ezra turned eighteen in six months time.


End file.
